


The Truth in the Stars

by Phantomwriter1231



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomwriter1231/pseuds/Phantomwriter1231
Summary: After Will and Deanna's separation, Deanna discovers she is pregnant. Three years later, aboard the Enterprise, the past comes back to bite her.
Relationships: William Riker & Deanna Troi, William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	1. Prologue

# Prologue

**_Betazed, 2361._ **

“Miss Troi.” The young woman looked at her with sudden angst. She met her eyes, pitch-black just like her own, and she didn’t need to be a telepath to understand she was urging her on.

“The Doctor will see you now.”

“Thank you.” She stood, her back straight, and she felt the sudden tension on her elegant shoulders. The young woman moved to accompany her to the doctor’s office, and she fell into the pleasure it was to lag. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation. They came to a stop.

“This is it. Just knock and everything should be ready for you.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was husky as she spoke, and her pulse began to skip as she saw the young woman walk away. She already knew what was wrong, she could feel it already starting to take a hold of her, she merely wanted confirmation.

Deanna rung the doorbell button on the panel by the door. 

“Come in,” a female voice came through the gray bulkhead. As the doors opened, the woman, lanky and tall, looked at Deanna.

“Oh, Deanna! So good to see you, how have you been feeling?”

“Very well, Marina, thank you.”

“It’s good you came by. I have you test results,” Deanna looked at the elder woman, “Congratulations, Deanna, you are going to be a mother.” Those words shook her world.

“How far along?”

“Three weeks.”

* * *

“Are you sure, Little One?” Her mother’s reaction was exactly the one she was expecting.

“I was from the very first moment. I could feel something was different and Marina confirmed my suspicions this morning.

“How did this happen? When?” Lwaxanna paced around the room like a chicken with its head cut off.

“When, three weeks ago. As to the how;” she sighed, “I reckon you know how, Mother.”

“Do not sass me, Deanna Troi, I was running by the time you were learning to crawl,” Lwaxanna was livid. She sighed,

“Are you going to tell him?”

“He is the father; it is his right to know. We’re supposed to meet on Risa in three weeks. I’ll tell him then.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, Dee, I won’t be able to make it; something’s come up.” The face in the screen looked back at her with apologetic eyes. She knew him well enough to know something was up, but she couldn’t read him well enough through the screen to determine what was off. She tried to be comprehensive and mature, even if the news were searing her very soul. Still, she smiled.

“Don’t worry, Imzadi, we can work it out later. I know you are busy.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Imzadi, I promise.”

“How are you liking the _Potemkin_? “

“Well, one thing is certain; it is not Betazed. It lacks color, the food is terrible, and most importantly, you’re not here. I miss you terribly, Dee.”

“I miss you, too. And I’m dying to see you. I have an important matter to speak with you.”

“Well, tell me now.”

“No, not through subspace. It is… a delicate matter. I want to tell you personally.”

His comm went off with a metallic chirp. Will stiffened, and as they said their goodbyes, the atmosphere of comfort faded away. That was the last time she spoke to him.


	2. Encounter at Farpoint

# Chapter I: Encounter at Farpoint.

**_U.S.S. Enterprise – NCC 1701D, 2364_ **

Deanna looked at the small babe cradled on her lap. She was hardly a babe anymore, and it still amazed her how quickly she was growing. Dark, thick curls framed the toddler’s sleeping face. Beauty and innocence rolled into a mini replica of her mother. She was two years old, almost three, and never had she spent a day away from Deanna.

“She comes first,” she said, looking over at her commanding officer sitting across the desk, “But I assure you, Captain, this will not interfere with my duties.”

“I understand, Counselor. I understand family always takes priority over duty.”

“Thank you for your understanding, Captain.”

“Er... Counselor, I don’t mean to be indelicate, but her father?” The serene look on her face dropped.

“He’s another kitten to kick, as my daddy used to say. I haven’t spoken to him since I was pregnant.” There was bitterness in her tone, her tongue sharper than a guillotine.

“He left you?”

“In a manner of speaking, Sir. He chose his career in Starfleet over me. That’s why I chose not to tell him anything and raise my baby girl alone, while he galivanted across the galaxy. The one thing he always wanted more than anything was to be captain. Who was I to stop him?” Picard fell silent, eyes fixed on the babe. She fuzzed; Deanna’s sight went straight to her at warp speed. She soothed, setting her to sleep again. A good mother, Picard decided, and a fine officer she’d make.

“Very well, Counselor, I appreciate your honesty and the disclosure,” he said, “We should be meeting with our first officer in a couple of hours. Why don’t you two get some rest in the meantime?”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Dismissed.”

* * *

She had to admit it. The meeting with the Captain was formidable, but what was even more terrifying than that was seeing _him_ again. It had been what… three, four years? And still, she could feel her breathing catch in her throat when she saw him step out of the Captain’s ready room and into the bridge.

Deanna was returning to her post at the bridge after long, lonely hours in her office. As she stepped out of the turbolift, she saw him. Still as handsome as she remembered, and still as hungry for adventure. Picard called to her.

“Counselor!” then turned to his young first officer, “I’ve asked her to join us in this meeting.” He turned back to her and indicated towards the younger man, “May I introduce our new first officer, Commander William Riker. Mister Riker, our ship’s counselor, Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi.”

They shared looks for a short period of time. Will was obviously stunned to see her standing there, but she wasn’t in the least surprised. She was hurt? Yes. She was angry? Like hell she was; but she was not surprised to see him there. She let her thoughts carry out, ingrain deep into his.

_Do you remember what I taught you, Imzadi? Can you still sense my thoughts?_

“A pleasure, Commander,” she said, holding out her hand formally. He was visually nervous.

“I, ah…Likewise, Counselor.” Picard studied the interaction with curiosity. He turned to Riker.

“Have you two met before?” Riker considered his answer carefully.

“We… we have, Sir.”

“Excellent! I consider it important that my key officers know each other’s abilities.”

“We do, Sir; we do,” Deanna spoke.

As they were getting ready to walk down to the turbolift, a male junior officer interrupted them and then a little squeal was heard. She turned around to find Lyra fuzzing in the young ensign’s arms and reached out to her. Shock overcame her. 

* * *

“Mama!” Will’s jaw nearly dropped, and his eyes opened wide as plates as Deanna reached out to the toddler. She was about three years old, and she had Deanna Troi everywhere, except for her eyes. Those were blue, and for some reason, they reminded him of his mother’s eyes, his own.

“Well, what’s my Little Urchin doing here?” Her voice was soft as she calmed the inconsolable babe.

“I found her roaming around deck nine looking for her mother, Ma’am. I asked her and she said her mother’s name was Deanna Troi. I tried to reach you in your office, but you’d already gone out.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” she smiled kindly, “I’ll take it from here. Urchin, say ‘bye-bye’ to the ensign.” The toddler waved bye with a small, chubby hand; then clung to her mother for dear life. Deanna turned to look at the captain, an apologetic look in her eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Sir, I know how you feel about having children on the bridge, but she’s part Betazoid, and she’s never been anywhere with these many minds before.”

“Oh, it’s alright Counselor.”

“I’ll contact Ensign Miller, to come pick her up in transporter room 3, Sir.” She did so, then walked into the turbolift with them both. Will was still in shock with realization and surprise. Suddenly he felt the voice, so vivid in his prefrontal cortex.

_I, too, would never say goodbye, Imzadi.  
_

* * *

The mission was long and difficult, but after everything was sorted out and the reports filled, Will searched for Deanna zealously. He was delighted to find out her quarters were on the same deck as his, just a few doors down from his own. He knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. When the reply came, the doors slid open.

“Hey,” He said, “May I speak with you?” She looked different and yet familiar at the same time. He peeked around the room. There were toys in every corner and baby items everywhere, from a pacifier to a yellow blanket with a stuffed giraffe on top.

“Right now, is not a good time, Commander,” she looked weary and her tone was sharp, “Lyra is having a bit of trouble adapting, so is mayhem around here. She’s inconsolable.”

“It is about her that I want to talk.”

“What would you want to talk about my daughter? If it is because of what happened on the bridge yesterday, I assure you it won’t happen again, Commander.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just this doubt is killing me. How old is she?”

“Two. She’ll be three by the end of August.”

“I knew it! Is she my daughter?” Silence. Cold, hard silence. “Deanna, is she my daughter?” He asked again, pacing the last four words sharply for emphasis. She nodded, finally. Something came over him. Happiness, he realized.

“Can I see her?”

“I just put her down for a nap, but if you’ve got a couple of hours, you can wait for her to wake up, and I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“You bet,” he smiled at her, sat down on the couch when she motioned him to.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

“Milk and two sugars?”

“You remember.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ouch, that hurts! Tell whoever sharpened your tongue they need him in 18th century France.”

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to harm your fragile ego, Commander,” she handed him his cup and sat across him on the couch, “I’m the opposite of the Deanna Troi you met years ago. In fact, the only thing we have in common is the height. What do you want to know?”

“When did you find out you were pregnant?”

“About three weeks after you left, I was planning on telling you when we saw each other on Risa, but that plan got thwarted halfway through.”

“Why didn’t you tell me through subspace? I would’ve dropped everything to come to find you.”

“Precisely because I knew you would drop everything to come to find me is why I didn’t tell you. More than anything, all you’ve ever wanted was to captain your own ship; and who was I to stop you?”

“When was she born?”

“August 28, 2362. Stardate 40538.8. She weighted a little under three kilograms and I could fit her little head in the palm of my hand. The minute they put her into my arms, I was smitten. And the next minute I was terrified for what might happen to her in the future. After that, well let’s just say it was part joy and part guerrilla warfare.”

“Do you have any pictures?” he tried and saw Deanna stand up, walk to the bookcase and pull out a computer chip from a small wooden box. She handed it to him.

“This is all I have for Lyra. Everything is in there; every birthday and milestone.”

“Thank you.” Then it dawned on him, “Wait a minute, Deanna. Your pregnancy, was that what you had to talk to me about and didn’t wanted through sub?” She nodded.

“It didn’t seem appropriate. But I knew that at some point or another you and I would meet again, and Lyra would want to meet her father, so I kept track.”

“Thank you.”

The shuffling of little feet made Deanna turn around and Will look up to see the toddler walk in, slightly rubbing her eyes. She looked just like Deanna except for her eyes. Those eyes had Betty Riker written all over them. Lyra Troi had his mother’s eyes, and that was all the proof he needed to know Deanna was telling the truth.

“Mama?” Her voice was squeaky, and it made her sound like a cartoon character.

“Come here, Sweetheart,” Deanna scooped her into her arms and nestled her on her hip” She sat back down on the couch with the girl on her lap, rearranged the obsidian mass of curls under a ribbon, then spoke again. 

“Baby, do you remember what I told you about your daddy?”

“Yes, mommy. That he was away working, and that he couldn’t come to see me.”

“Exactly, Sweetheart. I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Commander William Riker.”

“Hello, Commander.”

“Why don’t you try ‘Daddy’, Love?” the mother said, looking as her daughter’s face changed from confused to surprised and then back to confused. She observed the strange man before her, looked back at her mother. Deanna nodded in affirmation and observed partly amused and partly relieved how the toddler moved on to pull Will into a hug.

“Hello, Daddy,” she corrected, and it made Will smile. Deanna was right; he was instantly smitten. With that smile so much like his own, and that cartoon character voice he was absolutely done for.

“Hey there, Princess.” Deanna smiled. Blood was certainly thicker than water, and she had to admit, like father like daughter. For the first time in three years, she felt the burden on her heart lighten and the constant ruminating stop for once. Yes, she was finally at peace again. Or so she thought.


	3. The Trial of William Riker

# Chapter II: The Trial of William Riker

**_U.S. S. Enterprise – Deanna’s Quarters, 2364_ **

“Come on, Lil, eat your peas and get it over with.” She begged, looking at her daughter. The kid furrowed her eyebrows in disgust, shook her head.

“I don’t like them!” she whined.

“Since when?” Deanna felt herself losing her patience. No, she couldn’t give in. She _wouldn’t_ give in.

“Last week!”

“No, last week you didn’t like carrots.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhausted, holding out a forkful of peas. The chime in the door chirped lively, and she sensed him behind it.

“Come in.” When Will walked in, Deanna let out a small sigh.

“Daddy!” The toddler shot up from her chair, ran to the statuesque figure of her father, who laced her in his arms and scooped her up on his shoulders.

“Thank the Four Deities you’re here. She won’t eat her peas; I’ve been trying for close to an hour with no luck.”

“That true, Munchkin?” Will looked at the toddler, she scrunched up her nose in disgust once more.

“I don’t like them! They taste bad!” she complained again. Setting her down, Will picked a forkful and shoved it into his mouth. It could use some salt and a couple of spices. He walked up to the replicator, punched in a series of numbers in the digital keyboard and waited until his order materialized. Then he walked back to the table, where Deanna had sat Lyra down on her chair again, and sprinkled the spices over her peas. He sat down, picked up a forkful and showed it to her. The girl negated once more.

“Come on, just try it,” tried he the first time, “they’re good,” he insisted a second time. Then eventually pleaded, “Okay, here’s the deal, Pipsqueak. One bite, if you don’t like them, I’ll replicate you something else you do like.”

“Like what?” Was that a challenge in her voice? Like mother, like daughter he thought and smiled.

“A grilled cheese sandwich. You do like grilled cheese sandwiches, do you?” Lyra nodded.

“Okay,” she gave in, “I’ll have _one_ bite.” Deanna was livid but still considered it a triumph over that rebellious, pigheaded little girl of hers. She was a chip off the old block; which could be, depending on her level of patience, a good thing or a bad one. Right now, it was a bad thing.

* * *

“Now, how’d you managed that?” Deanna asked him after Lyra had scampered off to play, one polished cup of peas later.

“Kid’s stubborn,” He commented, leaving her question unanswered.

“Yes. She’s a real chip off the old block.”

“You’re talking about me or you?” Deanna chuckled.

“Both.”

“Fair enough.” He gave her that sly, sideways smile she knew made her weak at the knees.

“Listen, Dee,” He started, after a beat, but Deanna interrupted him.

“Please, don’t call me that.” There was steel in her voice where there should’ve been tenderness, and it took him by surprise. This was a new Deanna he hadn’t had the pleasure to meet until now.

“Sorry,” He said, “Force of habit. I was wondering if you’d allow me to take her with me for the weekend. You know, spend some time together?”

“Sure, I’ll pack a bag with all you’re going to need,” she turned to look at Lyra playing contentedly with wooden blocks on the coffee table, “Hey, Lil, how would you like spending the weekend with Daddy?” Her round, blue eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, really.” Her eyes lit even more, and she ran to her father. “Okay, I believe that settles it, Commander.”

* * *

She moved quickly about the room, gathering a few changes of clothes and an assortment of baby items. She dropped a baby bottle, the yellow baby blanket and the stuffed giraffe into a rugged, black rucksack.

Will sat down, looking at the typhoon moving around the room and belting out orders. She was to be in bed by twenty-one hundred hours. She usually woke up early. She was allergic to oranges, hated apples. This and that.

“Mama, did you pack Benny?”

“Yes, Darling, I packed Benny,” Deanna reset a loose lock of hair behind her ear and caressed the girl’s cheek softly.

“Who's Benny?” Will asked.

“Her stuffed giraffe. A present from my mother on her first birthday. She won’t go to sleep without it. Whatever you do, _do not misplace Benny.”_ She punctuated the last four words, which brought a smile to Will’s face that erased when he noticed both woman and child were shooting him daggers for stares. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under.

Deanna handed him the bag. He looked inside to make sure she wasn’t missing anything.

“What, no diapers?” She shot him another killer look.

“She’s three, Will.” Deanna laughed at the look on his face, “Relax, Columbo, she’s potty-trained.”

“Yeah, of course, she is!” Deanna rolled her eyes at the bout of sarcasm in Will’s voice, “I guess some things never change.”

“Remember who you’re talking to, Commander?”

“Only the most anal-retentive woman in the universe?”

“Exactly!” Will swung the bag over his shoulder, picked up the girl in his arms.

“Alright, Firecracker, we’re off. Say bye-bye to Mama.”

* * *

The quiet in the room was driving her crazy, she realized. She was used to the constant chaos around her, the irreverent backtalks before bed, the constant picking up of scattered toys. She missed having to run after Lyra to get her into her pajamas, to run after her every time she scurried away when she thought her mother was asleep. She just missed her little girl so much, she thought, even when she knew she was safe in her father’s arms, two doors down from her own.

Deanna let out a pessimistic sigh and pictured her daughter’s smiling face. She searched for her with her mind, sensed her at peace and smiled. Temptation won over her, and she searched for him as well. His mind was different, a little more chaotic than she remembered, but he slept peacefully as well.

The chronometer on the wall indicated she had to be up soon, and she had not slept all night. She got up from the bed, rejecting any futile attempt at getting any sleep, and walked toward the replicator.

“Coffee, black.” The beverage materialized in front of her. In another life she would’ve asked for hot chocolate on a morning like this, but also in another life she wouldn’t have Lyra, and that was a thought she could not sustain.

There was a light chirp coming from the door chime. She threw a robe over her lithe frame and settled her unruly curls in place before opening the door.

“Good morning, I thought you’d want some company with Lyra gone and all.”

“Morning, Bev, come on in. You’re up early.” Crusher looked at her.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?”

“I did not,” Deanna corroborated.

“Lyra?”

“I’m not used to her not being with me, is all. She’s never left my side, never. It’s always been her and I come hell or high water.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Beverly comforted her.

“Want some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“One and one.” Deanna input the parameters into the replicator and the beverage materialized before her. She took it to Beverly, sitting on the grey couch by the viewport.

“Did you have the same problems with Wesley?”

“I did. All mothers do. In my case, the first day of preschool was the worse day of my life. Jack was home for a few weeks on holiday, we took him together. He walked in the classroom, started playing with the other kids, fifteen minutes later he turns to look for us and we’re not there. He screamed bloody murder. The next day and the day after that he started crying before we even got to the school, but on the fourth day he walked in, said goodbye and took his seat next to a couple of the other kids, and he looked happy.” Deanna smiled.

“I’m dreading that day,” she confessed, “She’s still my baby girl.”

“I still look at Wes as a baby, even though he is fifteen.”

“My mother still calls me ‘Little One,’ even though I am twenty-eight years old and have a child of my own, so I guess all mother picture their children as babies.”

“Can I ask you something?” Beverly took a sip of her coffee.

“Please,” Deanna did the same.

“How was it? Raising her all alone without her father?”

“It was like trying to read hieroglyphics blindfolded. Like learning advanced calculus without learning arithmetic first. Probably the longest ten months of my life.”

“Did you have any contact with him, her father, other than meeting him again here?”

“No, I tried to cut him out of our lives as much as I could, but when Lyra started questioning why she didn’t have a dad like the other children she saw…”

“Yes, I know.” There was a beat as they both drank, “Do I know him? Lyra’s father?”

“You do, Bev.”

“Who?”

“Commander William T. Riker, our ship’s first officer. We met when he was stationed on Betazed. We fell in love. Or, at least, I did. We dated for five years, until he was reassigned to the _U.S.S. Potemkin_.”

“Crap.” Beverly was speechless by the revelations made by the younger woman.

“Yup. He was my _Imzadi._ My reason to live. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as I did Will.”

“ _Imzadi_?” Beverly questioned, looking at her intently.

“An ancient Betazoid bond, what you would call ‘soulmate’ I suppose.’” She clarified.

“ _Did_?” Crusher emphasized the question. Deanna looked at her, sadness in her eyes.

“I guess I still do.”

* * *

Will woke up with a kick to the face that nearly broke his nose. He looked to his side to find his daughter sleeping soundly, her head toward his feet and her little feet pointed toward his jugular like the deadliest of weapons. He pushed the covers away, draping them over the sleeping toddler, set a pillow on the open side of the bed just in case she rolled over. Lyra opened her eyes as soon as he got up.

“Daddy?”

“I’m here, Pumpkin.” Lyra stretched her arms to be picked up, then rubbed her eyes. Will sat her on his hip, walked to the bathroom to start getting ready. It was the final day together and she’d soon have to go back with Deanna, but he wanted to enjoy the time he had left with her.

* * *

She suddenly found herself with too much time on her hands. In her experience, too much idleness was often synonymous with rumination. So, she asked Geordi to write a program with lake E’lnar on it. She needed to clear her head; to think through the conversation she’d had with Beverly the day before, and that view always had a way to relax her with a single glance.

Seeing him again stirred up everything she had zealously tried to bury for the past three years, she realized. She was still as much in love with him as she was the day they decided to part ways. But some things weren’t meant to be, she reminded herself, and she had to accept that whether she liked it or not. She had a daughter to think about, for goodness sake, she couldn’t put that at risk because of a romance she knew had no future. He was a free spirit, and it wasn’t her intention to bind him. But that same man was her little girl’s father; the other, more emotional and fickle side of her reminded her. As much as she detested the fact, she had already bonded him to her. Their fates would always be intertwined as long as they had a daughter together.

“Mama! Mama!” A squeaky, cartoonish voice she knew like the palm of her hand made her turn around. She smiled when she saw her; sitting on Will’s shoulders and smiling as she called her name. She wore a white dress with a butterfly pattern, a vermillion turtleneck underneath. Her hair was plaited into perfectly curled pigtails.

Will dismounted her from his shoulder and set her on the floor. Lyra ran to her, and Deanna opened her arms to receive her, swinging her up into her arms.

“Hi, Sweetie,” she placed a soft kiss on her cheek, looked at her, “Oh, I’ve missed you so much! Did you have fun?” The girl nodded.

“Daddy programmed a zoo on Holodeck One. Have you ever seen a polar bear?” 

“I thought those were extinct.” She said looking at Will for some clarification.

“I programmed a 20th century zoo...in Alaska” Will explained in a whisper.

“Ah!”

“Mommy, did you know Daddy’s from Al…. Al…”

“Alaska.” Deanna giggled, “Yes, Sweetheart, I know.”

* * *

War broke out at bedtime. She was more tired than usual, but still, her stubborn little girl refused to go to bed. And to top it all off, she couldn’t find Benny anywhere. She looked everywhere, but still, she couldn’t find the plushie. Deanna was starting to lose hope, somewhere between fatigue and the crying little girl in her arms, when the bell rang. She stood up with Lyra nestled on her hip.

“I know, Baby, I know,” she said, rubbing the girl’s back as the opened the door. Will stood behind it, his arms tucked behind his back, his posture straight.

“Will, it is not a good time.” Lyra kept her face hidden in Deanna’s neck.

“I know,” he said and produced from behind his back the little, rickety toy. Deanna sighed, mouthed a thank you. He replied with a soft nod. She invited him inside with soft motion.

“Look what Daddy found, Sweetheart,” Deanna showed her the toy. Lyra pulled a tear-streaked face from behind her mother’s neck.

“Benny!” She took the toy, strangled it in her arms, and smiled. Deanna wiped the trail of tears from her face with the back of her sleeve. 

“There we go. Now, Missy is time for bed.” Lyra didn’t complain, and Deanna started to walk toward her room when Will stopped her.

“No. Allow me.” Deanna handed the girl over to her father, “Where to?”

“Second door to the right.”

* * *

He came out fifteen minutes later, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. Deanna was sitting at the table, nursing a steaming up of tea in her hands. Another cup of tea sat on the chair across her.

“Did she go down okay?”

“Sleeping like a baby.” He lingered for a moment, and she gestured him to take a seat.

“Deanna…can we… ah... talk?” He cleared his throat, drank some of his tea.

“About Lyra?”

“Yes.” A beat. Deanna looked at him expectantly.

“Well?” Will arranged and rearranged the words in his head, “Will you just spit it out? What is it? What’s troubling you?”

“I want Lyra to have my last name.” There was another beat, then she spoke again.

“That was it?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure how’d you’d take it, after everything that’s transpired between us.”

“William Thomas Riker get this into that thick skull of yours,” She said, letting out a sigh, the use of his full name on her lips surprised him, “Lyra is your daughter as much as she is mine. No matter how angry, how hurt, how disappointed I am, she’s your daughter, and nothing in this universe is going to change that, you hear.”

He nodded. Her words were sharp, her tone was frigid, acerbic, full of anger. He knew he was in a quagmire with her, and he had to tread lightly.

“I hurt you, didn’t I? When I left for the _Potemkin_?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. _I did_. I fell in love with a transitory man, and I paid the price dearly.”

“Come again?”

“It was my fault, not yours. _I_ fell in love, and _I_ suffered. I alone was guilty of my misfortune.” Her words, full of resignation and maturity, impressed and scared him at the same time. This wasn’t the same Deanna he’d left behind on Betazed. This one had guts and a tongue sharper than a guillotine to match.

“Did you ever stopped loving me?” Deanna drank some of her tea, just to fill space that should’ve been populated by words. When he didn’t get an answer, Will tried again.

“Deanna… Please, it’s a simple yes-or-no question.”

“Will, I don’t want to talk about it.” She stood up, he stood up after her.

“Please, I need to know,” he searched for her face when she turned away from him, placed his hands on her arms to keep her from turning again, “Dee, please.”

“I thought I asked you not to call me that.”

“Deanna, for fuck’s sake, this is childish! Is a simple question, yes or no?”

“Could you please let me go?” Her voice was soft now, barely above a whisper. When he did, she walked over to the other end of the room, where a pair of turtledoves in a large, white wire cage, stood in plain view. She observed them quietly, tapped carefully one of the birds’ heads lightly with her index finger when it came to salute her. Her back was to him, but she knew he was right behind her.

“Doves mate for life, you know?”


	4. Little Urchin

“You haven’t answered my question,” he said. He placed a hand on her shoulder, turned her around, “Did you ever stopped loving me, Deanna?”

“No. I never could bring myself to do that.” She turned away again, toward the birdcage, hid her face in the hectic mass of her hair. He knew her well enough to know she was somewhere between blushing and crying. There was silence for a few seconds, a beat so scathing it almost left a mark. He sat his hands on her shoulders. She tensed up under his touch.

“I’m not happy with this arrangement, Deanna.” He said, and it was so soft her heart leaped inside her chest, “I’m grateful with you for letting me spend some time with our little girl, but I’m not happy with this arrangement.”

“I don’t intend to keep her from you, Will. We could arrange for you to see her more often, not only on the weekends. She could spend some time with you whenever you want.”

“Damn it, Deanna! That is not what I mean, and you know it!”

“Yes, I know,” she admitted, “But right now, I can’t offer much more, Will. I am learning to love the sound of my feet walking away from the things not meant for me.” 

Will turned her around again. Her eyes were welled in tears. He pulled her toward him, embraced her so that she couldn’t scurry away like water through his fingers.

“Your lips say one thing, but your eyes and your heart say another, _Imzadi._ ” She was going to open her mouth to protest, but he shut her up with a kiss. She melted instantly. In his arms, she was a brutally soft woman.

She pushed away from him, gently, and struggled to regain her breath.

“Please,” she said, “I need time.”

“Time is a man-made construct.” Always the smartass he, she thought and smiled.

“Please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” He looked at her, arms firm at his side.

“How much time are we talking here?”

“One week. I need to get my head in order.”

“Just one week?”

“Just one week,” she reaffirmed with a soft nod.

“Fine,” His tone reminded her of Lyra, she could see now where she’d gotten it from, “but any more than that and I’m kidnapping you,” she scoffed lightly, wrapping her arms in front of her bust, he added, “ That’s a promise, and you know I always keep my promises.” He kissed her again and saw himself out.

“Yes, My Love, you always kept all your promises,” Deanna sighed, lifting an eyebrow in challenge when the doors slid close “All but one.” 

* * *

Her mind was like a pulsar in its prime, hopping from one thing to the next but always coming back to her earlier conversation with Will. It kept coming back to that kiss, replaying it in her head. Everything, every sensation recorded in her system.

His lips were as soft as she remembered, with the bonus of the short stubble of his beard. His scent was still as earthy, somewhere between sandalwood and rosewood. He still had that cocky attitude of his that attracted her so. And then she had to wonder, was that what had attracted her to him in the first place? That masculine arrogance with which he behaved? Or was it that boyish charm of his?

It was an amalgam of things, she understood then. It was his cockiness, his boyish charm, that silly smile of his, the way in which so little had changed despite the years. He was the very same Will she’d met in Betazed, only he’d gotten better at playing the trombone and had grown a beard since she’d last seen him.

* * *

Will wished he could say his week had gone by uneventful, but as the first officer aboard a Constellation Class vessel uneventfulness was a luxury he no longer was privileged to. His week started with a malfunction in God only knows what system. He could not keep up with the technobabble Geordi kept throwing at him. Something about the warp core, and let’s face it, everything was about the goddammed warp core! Then there was an accident in Engineering, and yes, the goddammed warp core again. Two ensigns and crewman had escaped with nothing but a few scrapes and cuts and with their lives, nonetheless. There were no fatalities, which he was glad of because that sort of thing usually meant a buttload of paperwork.

That was only the first sign his week was not going to get any better. He thought about Lyra and the prospect of Deanna’s answer at the end of a very long week; but that also meant he had to talk to Picard about what was going on. The week had started off on the wrong foot, and it showed no prospects of getting any better. He had to talk to him eventually, might as well get it over sooner than later.

“Sir, a word?” He said when he saw the captain walk into the bridge.

“Off course, Number One.” Picard looked around, found the metallic shimmer in a yellow uniform sitting at the helm, “Mr. Data, you have the bridge.” The android nodded and stood up to move toward the command chair as a younger ensign came to replace him.

As the slide doors to the ready room closed, Picard walked to the replicator and ordered his customary Earl Grey. Riker waited until the elder man had taken his seat behind the desk.

“So, Number One, what did you wished to speak to me about?”

“Sir, it’s about Counselor Troi’s daughter.”

“Lyra?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Did something happen to her?”

“It’s about her father, Sir. It seems he has appeared, and he is onboard.”

“Whom?”

“I, Sir. Lyra Troi is my daughter with Deanna.” Picard was silent, and Riker continued to speak, “I was stationed in Betazed when we met, we were in a relationship for five years until I was reassigned to the _Potemkin,_ three years ago _._ ”

“You chose your career over her, yes the Counselor told me about it. She just forgot to mention your name. You abandoned your family, Mr. Riker.”

“Sir,” Will was at a loss for words. Picard stood up; hands firmly grounded on the desk.

“Mr. Riker, I hereby relieve you of your duties until further notice. You are to remain in your quarters at all times from now on until we can resolve this matter. Understood?”

“Understood, sir. I only have one request.” The Captain looked at him, up and down.

“Your situation seldom is a good one for you to be making requests, Mr. Riker.”

“I know, sir, but my little girl…we’ve come to an arrangement with Deanna. I’ll take Lyra during the weekends. I’ve already missed a lot of things; I do not want to miss any more.”

“Fine, you can see her, but the Counselor must bring her to you and pick her up. You cannot leave your quarters until further notice.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Dismissed.”

* * *

“What exactly did you do to get yourself grounded?” She joked later that evening when she came to drop off Lyra. It was Thursday, and exactly three days had passed since she last had spoken to him. Three long days of missing her accomplice during those long hours on the bridge. Data could be, she thought, quite succinct.

“I owned up, is all,” he answered, swinging Lyra over his shoulder like a ragdoll and making her laugh. He wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of chinos. After so many years of wearing nothing but uniforms, it seemed as if he had become one with it. 

“Owned up?”

“Lyra.” Her face changed instantly.

“Will, you didn’t.”

“I did.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Are you daft? What in the Great Fire were you thinking!” He saw the characteristic heat arise in her eyes; she was so predictable.

“I wasn’t.”

“I can see that,” she spat back, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes with challenge in her tone, “because if you’d been thinking you would’ve measured out the consequences prior to opening your big mouth.”

Lyra giggled at her father’s face as Deanna practically destroyed him with words. Will looked at her, putting an insulted façade.

“What do you think, Smurfette? Do I have a big mouth?” Lyra kept giggling and shaking her head. Deanna laughed along her daughter and Will.

“Silly goose!” The toddler said and kept laughing. Deanna saw the golden trombone standing tall on its stand. The music stand was next to it, holding two sheets of notated music. 

“You were practicing.” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement.

“Yeah.”

“What were you working on?” Will scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“ _Misty,_ ” he said looking apologetically at her.

“Uh-oh, I know that look.”

“What look?” he freaked out for a fraction of a second, then regained composure. But it was too late. Deanna had already seen his face and was on her way to a fit of laughter.

“That look that says that even after six years you still haven’t gotten past the first three bars.” He looked at her, feigning insult.

“That was low, Dee. That was low.”

“What? I’m merely stating the truth.” She chuckled, letting the euphemism fly past unregistered.

“You know what? Here, hold her” he handed Lyra over to her, “I’m going to show you that indeed, I can make it past the first three bars.” Deanna took Lyra in her arms, nuzzled her at her waist.

“Come, my little urchin; let’s see how far Daddy can make it playing _Misty_ ,” she whispered that last part in her ear, but Will heard them.

“I heard that!” he protested, picking up his trombone from the stand, “Why, thanks for the vote of confidence!” He adjusted the stand to accommodate his standing posture, read over the music, and then began to play.

And just as expected, he couldn’t make it past the third bar. Both Lyra and Deanna laughed, as the trombone went from sounding silky smooth to sounding like a dying whale.

“Told you!” Deanna said and Will stuck his tongue out at her like a little kid. She rolled her eyes, made a comment about Will’s maturity level that made Lyra laugh out loud.

* * *

She walked slowly through the grey hallways of the _Enterprise_ ; always feminine and poised, preparing herself mentally for what was about to come. A younger crewman wearing a science blue uniform saluted her. Deanna saluted back, almost in autopilot, mostly out of habit than anything else. The same crewman always crossed her path every morning on her way to the office. Today wasn’t the exception.

She was supposed to talk to the Captain later that day, explain to him that her wars were hers to wage and nobody should get in the way. Not even her captain. Certain issues had to be fought alone in order to be overcome; and as a psychologist Deanna knew that well.

As was her habit, she walked into her office and started to prep the space for whomever was first on her docket. The life of the counselor, she thought, fluffing the pillows on the couch. She then moved toward the bureau, activated the computer, and proceeded to ask for her appointment schedule of the day. It didn’t look very full, only three cases to tend to.

At noon, when her docket was finally clear, she sauntered into Ten Forward for a bite; but as the double-doors swished open, she changed her mind and her feet started to walk towards Will’s quarters. She ringed the bell and waited for an answer. It came quicker than she thought.

“Hi,” he said, standing at the door, a bit surprised.

“Hey. Mind if I visit for a while?”

“Never. What brings you around here today?” She laughed. Always the clown, him.

“Two things: First, I miss my little girl; and second, I wanted to make sure you were not on the verge of doing something crazy.”

“All ye of little faith…” he laughed, “She’s washing her hands, we were just about to have some lunch. Have you eaten?” She negated with her head. Lyra came out of the bathroom then, and when she saw her, she ran into her arms. Deanna picked her up and cradled her on her hip.

“Mamma!”

“Hi, Baby Bird. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Mamma.”

She stayed for lunch on Will’s insistence, addled by her daughter’s pleas. This, she thought looking around her, could be what the rest of her life could possibly look like; everyone gathered around the dinner table talking and laughing. Deanna pictured Lyra, maybe around her same age, holding a babe of her own. She pictured Will, sitting at the head of the table, grey stubble complemented with tired blue eyes that had seen lightyear after lightyear of the galaxy, eyes all too difficult to impress. She imagined a teen boy, maybe seventeen, and a girl, maybe twelve or thirteen. She saw herself, grey starting to creep into her obsidian curls, sitting next to Will.

Deanna knew. She knew that she could have all of it and more if she’d just let it happen. She just had to let it happen. She just had to lower those enormous walls she’d built the minute he had left; walls that were all too easy to erect but not quite as easy to topple.

She felt Will’s hand on her forearm and turned to look at him. He seemed worried.

“Deanna, you’ve barely touched your food,” he said matter-of-factly, “Are you alright? Would you like me to prepare you something else?” She shook her head.

“No, don’t worry Will, the pasta is great, just as I like it.”

“So you see you aren’t the only one who remembers things.” He smiled, flashing to a few days back, the way she had prepared his coffee almost in autopilot without so much as asking.

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Right, so why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind. You’re still terrible at lying, so don’t even try.”

“I was just thinking, is all. Sometimes, I like to look at Lyra and imagine the future. She’s growing so fast… sometimes the sole act of opening my eyes in the morning terrifies me.” She looked for the girl from her spot at the table, she’d ditched the linguine and was instead digging into a fruit cup Will had replicated as a backup while she sat on the couch playing with Benny. That, and Deanna had to give credit where it was due, was a good father.

“What scares you so much, Deanna?”

“Am I even a good mother, Will? I mean, I kept her from you for three years and I had no right. What kind of mother does that to her child? You are her father. You had a right to know from the very beginning, to see her babble her first words and take her first steps. You should’ve been there from the very start. Tell me, Will, what sort of mother does that make me?” 

“The sort that goes out of her way for her daughter. Trust me, Dee, we would not be sitting here and having this conversation if you weren’t a good mother. Look at her,” his eyes went her way again, “she’s happy and healthy, and she’s safe, what more could you possibly ask for?” She sighed, he was right after all, and smiled at him lightly. Her hand turned to find his, and her fingers coiled around his forearm.

“You’re right. Somehow, you’re always right these days, _Imzadi_.” The euphemism rolled from her lips so easily and so softly that the word surprised Will for a fraction of a second. She hadn’t even realized she’d said the word until she’d said it. After so many years, saying it felt alien and somehow reinvigorating. Maybe she was starting to heal after all, maybe in her heart she had begun to let go of any resentment she might’ve felt toward him in the past.

“Experience is the wisest of teachers.” 

“And the toughest of them all, too.” Her addition made Will smile, especially because he knew she was right. Time had made them both wiser. They’d both matured the hard way, rolling with the punches, with the twists and turns of fate. Deanna drank some wine.

“It’s being a long time,” he said. She sat her glass back down on the table.

“What?”

“It’s being a long time; since we sat and talked over a meal like this. Last time we did, we were on Betazed.”

“I remember,” she smiled, “I did the dishes.”

* * *

Deanna waited apprehensive behind the double doors to the captain’s ready room. She fixed her clothes and hair, then ringed the doorbell. A confident and gruff invitation came from inside, and she proceeded to enter.

“Ah, Counselor, good to see you. I got word you wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes, Sir. I was a bit concerned about the drastic measures taken against Commander Riker. I understand he spoke to you about his paternity to Lyra?”

“Ah, that,” his face relayed he wasn’t pleased with the way the conversation was going, but she could feel he wasn’t about to back down.

“Yes, that. If I may speak freely, Sir?”

“Please, Deanna, always.” There were very few instances in which he dared use her name, and they were far in between.

“When I asked to be assigned to the _Enterprise_ , I had no clue I was going to see him again, much less serve with him. In my mind, I was going to see him…but not in here, not like this. When I walked into the two of you in the hallway three months ago, my entire world shifted. I had just regained some semblance of normalcy for the first time in three years, for me and my little one, and suddenly I got whacked off the edge.”

“It was painful seeing him again.”

“I was pissed, mostly, and then I was distraught, and then I wished I could throttle him,” she smiled when Picard laughed lightly, “But then I had long hours after that to think; it wasn’t his fault that I didn’t tell him about Lyra’s existence in the first place, so what gave me the right to be angry with him?”

“He chose his career over you.”

“When the offer came up, I urged him to go. I dug my own grave.”

“Deanna, he still chose to go, and then he stopped communicating. A real man does not do that sort of thing.” He spoke to her more like a father than her captain.

“Sir, he might be the spawn of Satan, but he is still the father of my child. I know him better than anyone on this ship. Ever since we reunited, he’s done nothing but try to be a good father for our little girl. We’ve come to a custody arrangement.”

“Yes, Will told me something about that.”

“He wanted her to have his last name, that’s why he resolved to tell you about this whole issue in the first place. He didn’t consult it with me prior to telling you about his paternity.”

Picard meditated on her words for a minute, then poised his question.

“How is he as a father, with Lyra?”

“Well, he is… Will. Worrywart and eager beaver. He had his suspicions when he saw her, Lyra has his mother’s eyes… his eyes. She acts a lot like him, even when she didn’t meet him up until three months ago.”

She fought like a lioness, that was his impression. Somewhere deep down, Picard knew, Counselor Deanna Troi still cared a lot about Commander William T. Riker.

“Alright, Counselor,” his voice firm but shrouded by a thin veil of understanding, Picard pulled down his uniform as he stood up to walk toward the replicator, “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Deanna said and walked out.

* * *

It just so happened that he was chasing Lyra all over the living room, trying to put her to bed, when the doorbell rang. He yelled whomever was behind to let themselves in, his hands too busy with the headstrong child, kicking and screaming as he held her up.

“Woah, what in the Great Fire is going on here?” He knew Deanna was looking at the both of them awaiting an explanation.

“Nothing, Mommy, just a little bedtime tantrum is all.”

“William T. Riker, you know better than to sass me!” Lyra was still squirming in Will’s arms, her face red and her eyes, normally ice blue, were gray. Will was desperate. This was the first time he’d seen her like this.

“Here, let me,” Deanna crossed the room to her crying daughter, took her when he handed her over. She accommodated the little one on her hip, rubbed her back gently to calm her down.

“Come on, my little urchin, is bedtime,” she said softly, and walked with the girl to the bedroom Will pointed out. She was surprised to see it had been remodeled for a young girl, with toys and books lined on shelves. Everything that wasn’t standard issue was painted in quartz and pastel blues. The bedsheets were lilac, the dresser and the bedside table were elegant white, just like the shelves that lined the wall. She sat Lyra on the bed, pulled her covers up to her chest, and kissed her forehead softly.

“Snug as a bug in rug.”

* * *

He was making some coffee and waiting for Deanna to come out of Lyra’s bedroom when the doorbell surprised him. It surprised him even more when it turned out to be Picard.

“Sir,” he said when he saw him.

“May I come in, Number One?” Picard fidgeted with the hemline of his shirt.

“Please,” Will invited him in, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you, Number One. I’ll be brief.”

“Oh, boy, I know that tone.”

“Let me blunt, Number One,” Picard took in a breath, then continued, “What the bloody hell were you thinking?! Getting your girlfriend pregnant and then leaving her? What kind of man does that?”

He continued to lecture him, but Will drowned everything out save for his tone. There was a hint of furor, and all around his tone was firm and paternal. He told him this was a serious matter, but that he understood a lot more than before. When he was done, Will moistened his throat and asked permission to speak freely. Picard urged him, and he proceeded to explain himself once again.

“You know this already, but it’s worth repeating. I didn’t know she was pregnant, Deanna never told me, or I wouldn’t have cut all my ties to her. I definitely wouldn’t have left if she had, and you and I possibly would not be having this conversation. Sir, if what worries you is that I will hurt her again, don’t worry. I only want to win her back. Over the years I have learnt that she’s my better half, and that I can’t live without her.”

“In my experience, Mr. Riker, nobody dies of love but on stage.” In that moment, a yellow blotch caught his eyes, and he turned to look at the stuffed giraffe sitting on the table, “Aren’t you a bit too old to be playing with stuffed animals, Number One?” Will snorted and picked up the raggedy toy.

“This is just what happens when you have kids.” Just as the words were coming out of his mouth, Deanna sauntered into the room.

“Will, have you seen…” and when her eyes caught sight of Picard she trailed off. Will lifted the stuffed giraffe. She took it and quickly went back to the girl’s bedroom.

“What was that?” Picard demanded when Deanna was out of sight. There was a hint of mirth in his tone now, like a schoolboy who has done some mischief.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Will warned, “She was just helping me put our daughter to bed, is all.”

“If you say so, Number One,” he patted his shoulder and turned to leave, but then stopped again, “Oh, and I want you on the bridge bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Go back to your woman and your daughter, Mr. Riker.” And then he was gone.

* * *

He did go back to his woman and his daughter, and by then Lyra was sound asleep, and Deanna watching over her. She smiled when she saw him walk in, and he smiled back at her. Will placed a soft kiss in the crown of Lyra’s head and ran the covers higher, then took Deanna’s hand and led her out of the bedroom and into the living room. She didn’t refuse, didn’t pull away like many a time before. He reveled in her touch; in the sensation of her elegant and warm hand under his own frigid one.

“What did the Captain want?” she asked, walking casually over to the replicator and imputing a series of numbers.

“Well, he gave me a lecture about the value of family, nagged me about leaving you, then proceeded to make fun of me for playing with stuffed animals, then you came in, and then he left not before reinstating me to my post, effective first time tomorrow morning.”

Deanna couldn’t keep the laughter in any longer. The way he had delivered the line made her chuckle.

“That was certainly awkward. What did he say after I left?”

“He started to giggle like a schoolgirl.” Deanna laughed harder.

“Now you’re pulling my leg.”

“I’m telling you the truth, I assure you.” She scoffed, then walked back toward the couch with two cups of coffee at hand. Setting one on the coffee table, Deanna handed Will the other.

“Tell me more about her?” he asked.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, I don’t know, what were her first words, for example?” Deanna thought back.

“Her first word was _No._ ”

“Well, they all learn that one first, don’t they?” she chuckled.

“Well, according to my mother, that was also my first word; so, I guess like mother like daughter.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Will took a sip from his coffee, reflected for a second, “She certainly took a lot after you. Sometimes I talk to her and it’s like I’m speaking to you; down to that very same eye roll you sometimes give me.”

“She got that eye roll from you, Will, and the sassy attitude, too. For not having met you until just a few months ago, she certainly has a lot of your mannerisms. Sometimes, when I would talk to her, I would picture you in her stead. She sometimes sits in my lap, plays with my hair, tells me not to worry about whatever it is that’s worrying me because everything is going to be alright in the end.”

“The Little Urchin certainly surprises me from time to time. An old soul, that one.” Deanna drank some coffee and moistened her throat, her eyes lost on empty space. Will begged her tell him more.

“She was a really easy baby, seldom cried or fuzzed. Sometimes I would hover over her crib making sure she was alright. You could really tell when she was angry, because she would cry and cry until she got what she wanted. Like tonight.”

“I swear, if you hadn’t come in, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I just froze. The only thing I wanted was for her to stop crying and go to sleep.”

“Yeah, welcome to the last three years of my life.” She chuckled. Will turned to her, grabbed both her hands in his.

“Deanna, I’m really sorry. Hell, I’m an idiot, but…”

Deanna did not let him finish. Before she could calculate what she had done, her lips were on his. He was as stunned as he was happy, his arm traveled up and wrapped around her waist, pulled the lithe figure closer to him. The kiss intensified, deeper, fiercer, pure fire. The oxygen deficit pulled them apart.

“Wow!” Both struggled to regain their breaths, “What does that mean?”

“That means I’m ready, Will. I’m ready to topple my walls.”


	5. By the Morning's Light

He kissed her again. Mostly out of emotion, but with all the love in the world. He took it slow this time. The one thing he wanted most at the moment was to savor those supple lips of hers he’d missed so much. It had been an eternity since they had parted ways, and even when the devil of need was present deep inside him he didn’t want to scare her more than what he knew she was already. 

Deanna would’ve been lying if she didn’t say she was frightened half to death. Her heart wanted to pop out of her chest, alive for the very first time in four years. She pulled him closer still, wanting to feel him, just to see if she could shake out that weird sensation of dread that tormented her. 

He pulled away. She bit her lip, an old habit of hers that made an appearance for the first time in the four years since being apart from him. 

“You’re shivering,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. 

“It’s…been a while.” 

* * *

She woke up with a start, only to see Will peacefully asleep next to her with Lyra nuzzled at his side. The toddler had the toy giraffe strangled in one arm and her thumb stuck in her mouth. She’d very obviously had walked into their bedroom and climbed up on the bed in the middle of the night. Deanna smiled as she pulled the hand out of the girl’s mouth and covered her to her chest, then walked out of the room. 

The common area was still in shadows, but she didn’t bother to order the computer to turn the lights on. Deanna focused her eyes on the flashing of stars outside the viewer; their light the only thing that illuminated the room. Her mind was a maelstrom, a giant mess she needed to sort through before it became any larger. She loved Will with all that she was, had since the minute he’d waltzed into her life for the very first time, but she was also scared. The sole thought of risking her heart once more petrified her. It had been three years, after all. 

But not everything was the end of the world. She’d stayed the night, she thought, realizing that it wasn’t so bad in the end. That sight of Will and Lyra was all that she needed to keep on living, and she needed that more than she needed nourishment and water. 

Strong arms she recognized instantly enveloped her. Tender lips accompanied by a prickly beard kissed her temple. Deanna smiled, turned her head around to meet his lips. He kissed her slowly and tenderly, plundered her lips with such gentle passion that nearly robbed her of breath.

“It’s early, go back to bed,” she said quietly. 

“Well, there’s this little urchin in our bed that nearly kills me with a kick.” Deanna laughed. 

“Yup, she’s a kicker. I should’ve warned you.” 

“You think? Who knew those little feet could be such an effective weapon?” Deanna laughed again, kissed him. 

“Better than a phaser, I’ll give you that.”

“Are you kidding? The other day she nearly broke my nose.” Deanna laughed again.

“Aww,” she kissed him again, “poor baby.” 

“Do you have appointments today, or do I have the pleasure of having you all to myself on the bridge?” 

“Reg asked me for an emergency meeting at eight today, and I promised Bev we were going to go get lunch together and catch up. The volume of work in both our dockets seems to have tripled over the last couple of days.” 

“And tell me, my beautiful Imzadi, is there a little time on your docket for this mess of a man that loves you with all he is?” 

“Always. What do you say we have dinner together?”

“I’d love that.” Will kissed her cheek, spun her around to look at her in the eye, “And I love you. Want some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she kissed him again. Deanna was about to open her mouth to provide specifications, but he took the words right out of her mouth. 

“Black as the depths of your soul?” Deanna sighed.

“You know me so well!” 

* * *

“So, you guys are back together?” Beverly asked, forking a mouthful of spinach.

“I know, I can’t believe it. It’s been so long.” 

“That, Skipper, is called love. When the right person is the right person you just feel it, even if you might be ships in the night. Which clearly you two aren’t.” 

“I asked you not to tease me, did I not?” Deanna faked an insulting expression. Beverly laughed as she put the fork in her mouth. Deanna mimicked the same action with her own salad. 

“Did you guys speak to Picard about all this?”

“Will got grounded for about three days because he had ‘abandoned’ me when I was pregnant, but I talked to Picard and he re-established him on the bridge.”

“What did Will do with all his free time?” 

“Mostly play the trombone and babysit Lyra,” Deanna’s face gave away the fact she was about to start laughing. 

“I’d give anything just to see that. Those two together in one room and it didn’t explode?” 

“I got to give credit where it’s due, though, he can handle his way around the kid. Trust me, I’m her mother and I love her, but to live with Lyra Troi is like herding cats. I walked in on him last night just trying to put her to sleep, boy, did he freeze up. Picture this, Lyra kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs, the tantrum of the century, and Will wrestling with her to get her into her pajamas.” Beverly started laughing.

“Oh-ho-ho, I’d give anything to have been there.” 

“The kid’s got my piranha temper, I’ll give you that. But Will? He just knows how to calm her down. Except for last night, every single time I drop her off with him it’s instant chemistry. Lyra definitely loves being daddy’s girl.” 

“I can imagine. She’s already starting to change him, I don’t see him in my sickbay as often as I used to. He’s taking better care of himself on the job ever since you told him.”

“More like he figured it out.” 

“How?” 

“Beverly, have you ever looked at my daughter? She’s a carbon copy of Will with dark, curly hair.” 

“Point taken.” They ate in silence for a few minutes. 

“What?” Deanna started, “I can see you trying to read me like you’re my mother on steroids. Spill, what is it?”

“Well, despite all that you just told me, I can clearly see you’re still hesitant. It’s not like you not to trust, Deanna.”

“Burned once, twice shy, I guess.”

“Look, just enjoy it, okay? Trust your heart for once in your life, not your brain, no matter how brilliant it is. Some decisions cannot be made with a mathematical equation, Dee.” 

* * *

She knew instantly it was a dream. It was a replay of the dinner they’d had. Alone. Together. Heavenly. Beverly had offered herself to watch over Lyra for a few hours so that they could talk without having to worry about her. One minute she was sitting at the table with him in front of her, the next they were both standing on the transport station three years before and he was shipping out to the  _ Potemkin.  _ Her chest hurt, physically as much as emotionally, her face was wet with tears she hadn’t attempted to keep back. 

She woke up, her chest in pain and her face wet. It took her a minute to regain that cold composure of hers. She looked at the chronometer in the wall, pushed over the covers, got up from the bed but didn’t bother chasing a coat, and walked to Lyra’s bedroom. The toddler was sleeping peacefully. Benny the stuffed giraffe had ended up on the floor sometime during the night. Deanna picked it up, set it back in her daughter’s arms, and pulled the cover up higher. She caressed her forehead and exited the bedroom. 

Back in her own bedroom, Deanna opened a drawer and pulled out a small box. She sat down in the bed, opened it. It was full to the brim with letters, all unopened, all tied neatly by a blue satin ribbon. She pulled one out, then another, and another. She read in semi-darkness for what appeared to be hours, her face wet with tears once more but this time it was the letters that had brought it on instead of the dreams. She could hear Beverly in her head, telling her to start trusting her heart once more. And she did. Her heart alone had given her an answer. She felt those walls she’d so desperately built three years ago starting to come down. 

Deanna knew it. She just had to open herself to the possibilities. 

The morning came soon enough, or at least the computer-simulated version of it did. She heard the continuous shuffle of little bare feet swoosh through the grayish floors, then she felt the pressure in the bed change as the toddler hopped on and then climbed on top of her, fully awake unbeknownst to the girl. 

Deanna appeased rebel black curls down, kissed the crown of her head like she did every morning. Those icy blue eyes looked up at her and she saw the beautiful smile of her daughter and the full extent of her similarity with her father.

“Morning, Mummy.” Every time Deanna heard her pitchy, cartoonish voice she fell in love all over again like she did the minute she was put into her arms. 

“Morning, Urchin. How did the princess sleep?” 

“Good.” Deanna smiled, pushed some more curls down. 

“In that case, why don’t we go and get you ready for daycare, huh?” The toddler agreed, good-naturedly, and Deanna hopped off the bed with Lyra cradled in her arms. She walked toward the bathroom and as usual, she sat the girl next to the sink and helped her get ready. Thirty minutes later, mother and daughter came out, nearly ready. Deanna brushed Lyra’s hair, unruly as ever, and tied it back using a ribbon colored bordeaux-black. 

The bell rang. Deanna, halfway through buttoning her uniform jacket, called for whoever was behind it to let themselves inside. It was Will. Two things gave it away. First the familiar squeals of her daughter, then the constant turmoil that was his mind. She smiled, approached him, placed a sweet kiss on his lips. 

“Good morning, Commander.”

“Good morning to you, too, Counselor.” Will had Lyra in arms. He sat her down back at the table, where a small bowl of oatmeal and a piece of fruit awaited her. The girl started eating, Deanna finished doing her buttons and organizing the insignias on her collar. The black and blue uniform made her look different, so different compared to the bordeaux and lilac outfits that she always wore. She felt a bit uncomfortable but assumed it was to do with habituation. 

Deanna walked to the replicator, ordered two coffees each with their distinct parameters, handed the cup with milk to Will, and took a sip of her own, black as the veil of stars outside. She looked toward Lyra, eating quietly at the table. 

“Hurry up, Urchin, we don’t want to be late.” She drank some coffee, smiled at Will.

“Dee, do you mind if we talk for a bit?” 

“No, I really need to talk to you as well.” Both walked toward the couch, away from their daughter’s earshot. They sat down facing each other. 

“I wanted to ask you something. I understand that all has happened extremely quickly, but I already told you I am not about to abandon you two again. I don’t want to be further apart than strictly needed, not ever, not again. So the only solution that I see for that is to always be together, the three of us, like the family we are. ” She understood what was happening, opened her lips to say something but nothing came out, “Deanna, my Imzadi, will you marry me?”


End file.
